Uncle Beige

[Tiger the Lion]

Hello theswelter, and welcome. I really enjoyed this. Here are a few notes,

Uncle Beige rests on the desert, stretched out,
Like a zillion suede hats. I would prefer a real number to zillion. (personal preference)
Igneous relic;
Retired Malboro Man. Marlboro (sp)
Two young date palms
Shake green feather headdresses
Lust on those basilic veins
Remnants of heat that came from below.
They shake their fronds,
Sway their hips,
Beckoning, A full stop here and you could remove "but" from the next line.
But neither pros nor cons can
Excite Uncle Beige any more.
"What a bore.
If only he would samba!"
An old dog with whiskey eyes overhears.
He lives in homesteader cabins
Blown dusty by sepia winds.
Watches the palms' emerald shimmy,
And runs to them,
Ups his hind, sprays adoring gold
On wrinkled brown skin.
The ladies shudder
At such terrible lack of manners "such a terrible lack" might be better. (maybe not, your poem)
And boulders crack
As Uncle Beige stifles a giggle.

Thank you for the read. Great imagery. - Paul